The Beginning
by onmyside
Summary: Charles Carson is a man of integrity and honour. Elsie Hughes is a strict but fair housekeeper. But how did they become these people? What has happened in their lives before they met and what happened after they met for the first time. AU.
1. Chapter 1

_I wanted to write a backstory for Charles Carson and Elsie Hughes, explain how they became the people they are now. What made them butler and housekeeper. Some parts might not correspond with canon at all. But read for yourself and decide for yourself if you like my headcanon about these two :)_

_A/N: the characters are not mine. They belong to Julian Fellowes, ITV, Masterpiece. And I hope they will return in full glory in September and not disappoint us._

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The first time he turns the key inside the lock of the massive front door he does not feel proud or important. It is a new responsibility that weighs heavily on his shoulders. He is in charge of the house now. He has to make sure that every door, every window is locked and secured before he goes to sleep. They all rely on him, the old housekeeper, the young footmen, the many young male servants he has to supervise now, Lord Grantham, the Dowager Countess. Everyone . The lock clicks once, twice, a third time. He removes the large iron key, checks whether the door is securely locked or if he has missed something. A bolt he is not aware of maybe. But it does not move an inch. He takes the small paraffin lamp from the table where he had put it before and carefully walks across the impressive entrance hall of Downton Abbey, silently, almost on tiptoes. He does not want to wake someone although he probably is the only one of the servants still awake. Another change to his daily routine he has to get used to now as fast as possible. Being the last one. Together with the housekeeper.

He opens the door that leads down to the kitchen, the servant's hall and to his new room. The old butler's pantry. There aren't many personal things that make it _his _room yet. Not a single picture decorates the walls. Only dusty shelves with too many useless things stacked on it. He has not found the time yet to rearrange things, sort through the old books Mr. Wilkinson has left him. He only has had a look at the accounts, the wine ledger, some invoices so far to get familiar with them, learn how to read them.

When he lights another small lamp to illuminate the dark pantry, shadows appear in every corner, making the room darker instead of brighter. He feels lost suddenly, overburdened. He cannot do this job, he was never meant to do it. He, who has once fled from all of this, tried to forget his origin, the strict rules, the life in service his mother was used to, growing up in a house like this without a father but with a loving mother. He, who has lived on the streets, slept in shabby rooms in some run down guesthouses during the day while at night the stage was where he felt alive for the first time in his life. There was once no responsibility at all in his life, only for himself. Now there is too much.

The large key lies heavily in his hand and he stares at it, tries to understand its meaning and what it does to him. It ties him to this house, ultimately. There is no way back. Now he has obey to the rules that have been set centuries ago. He cannot change them, maybe alter them a bit. Most of all, he cannot run away from them again, has to accept them. A sigh escapes him when he puts the key in the top drawer of the old desk. He will have to get used to it.

ooooo

The months pass by too fast for his liking. He has hardly time to adjust to his new role and the housekeeper has to remind him of too many things he tends to forget. Mrs. Barnes is patient with him, too patient. He often sees how she rolls her eyes when she thinks he does not notice. It is her way of criticising him and he wishes she would tell him what is bothering her instead of keeping everything to herself. She calls him _good boy _when she wants him to do something for her or when he has done something correctly. But he is no longer a boy. He is close to 40. Still he does not feel like it. He is impatient, cannot concentrate sometimes, is afraid to make decisions. Still slowly he adjusts to his new routines. The daily rounds become more familiar, locking the front door is not special anymore and he gets used to the weight of the large key in his hands, to the sound the lock makes when he shuts the door. But he keeps walking down the empty floors at night without making a sound. He does not want to be noticed.

His regular tasks still include serving dinner to the family upstairs, but no longer actively. He blends in. Stays in the background, disappears behind the footmen. Now he is giving them their orders, training them, telling them what to do. Sometimes he pours the wine that he has selected earlier. And here too, he tries to stay in the background. Mrs. Barnes watches him sometimes, how he stands next to the china closet, observing the dinner, making sure everything the young boys do is perfect. She thinks he does not take notice of her but he knows that she studies his every move, because they often talk about it later. Not directly though. She only hints at things and he hates that.

"You run the house now Charles."

This means he should not try to hide behind his footmen, should not pretend to be invisible. But he can't help it.

The only thing he really likes about his new responsibility is the perfection he can ensure. After he returned from the _real life _it was the only thing that kept him going. It made him forget his past because it was so different to the chaos he had lived in for a few years. He folds the napkins perfectly, there is never a speck of dust anywhere that he overlooks, his livery is always spotless. In Mr. Wilkinson's eyes he is the perfect footman. The old butler did not know that Charles Carson needed the perfectionism to stay focused, to avoid falling into old habits again. Or, in the worst case, run away a second time.

It is like an old habit he cannot let go of and that slowly turns into an implicitness he no longer notices. Oddly enough he does not mind at all.

ooooo

There are a lot of rules at Downton Abbey. So many different ones that he never knew whether what he did as a young footman was right or wrong at the beginning. He learned them quickly to assimilate, to no longer stick out as the young stranger. Soon the rules define his new life and he no longer gives them a second thought at all. They are there; they help him to distinguish right from wrong, good from evil, black from white. The young boys that do not obey the rules leave the house so fast that he sometimes only sees them for a few days without ever getting to know their names. They are not eager to stay in service obviously, not determined to live a good life. He was once like them: a young fool who thought that he was able to decide on his own what kind of life he wants to have.

The most important rule of the house is: no suitors. It applies for the young men and the young women. Sometimes the other footmen flirt with the housemaids, ask them out for a walk into the village or to the fair. He never does that. There is a rule that says: when you are attracted to a girl, don't show it or they will dismiss you. And although he is the only one that knows how to survive out there on his own, he does not want to risk it a second time. So he takes this particular rule very seriously.

Now that he is butler at Downton Abbey he has to make sure that everyone else he has under his jurisdiction takes the old and the new rules he has set up as seriously as he once did and still does. That is the hardest part of his new position: gaining respect, not showing anyone how uncertain he really is. His outward appearance is what matters now not necessarily how he executes his daily work. He is the new role model for the younger male servants and they look up to him. Mistakes will cost him the hardly earned respect. So he tries to make none, pushes every thought away that might risk a faux pas, does not allow his mind to wander back to his old life or doubt his ability to fulfil this new job the way the others expect it from him. Only at night is he able ease the tension sometimes that determines his day. Alone in his room he tries to forget the responsibility, pretends that he is still that young footman.

ooooo

One day, a week before the large garden party, Mrs. Barnes informs him that she has placed an advertisement in the York Observer. They are looking for a new head housemaid and he will make the final decision as soon as they have seen the young women who are supposed to apply for the open position. He is nervous. Never before has he made such a huge decision that affected the household in such a way. Selecting a new girl, or better a young woman, for this position is a new responsibility he is not sure he can handle.

Several nights he is unable to sleep, contemplating over and over again how to make a final decision, how to select the right girl. It's foolish. He should have more confidence. Mrs. Barnes has stopped correcting his mistakes a while ago. She seldom comments on what he has done during the day during their evening talks. Maybe he is finally becoming this butler, the respected head of the household.

They get plenty of applications for the open position. Most of the young women are from the local villages that surround Downton Abbey. They are between their mid-twenties and mid-thirties. And all of them have the required experience. Yet some are only housemaids that never had to lead a group of other housemaids before. Mrs. Barnes sorts them out, he agrees. He does not want the new member of staff to experience the same doubts he had been through a few months before.

One application catches his eye immediately. She is not from Yorkshire, not even from England. Her last employment was at some large manor in Northumberland close to the Scottish border. Miss Elizabeth Hughes, a Scot.

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**TBC**

**reviews are more than welcome! They are the sunshine on rainy days and medicine when you feel sick.**


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N Thank you for your support so far! This chapter includes my head canon for Elsie's backstory. I do not go into detail though. Others have done this much better than me. _

_Disclaimer: I don't own them, I don't make money with them._

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She has been away from Argyll for so long already that it does not matter where she applies for a new job. A friend tells her of the open position at Downton Abbey in Yorkshire. It is further south from where she lives and works now. Further away from Joe but a good position in the house of an Earl not just a Baron like her current employer. It is a chance to start a new life, maybe her only one. So she takes out her finest paper and writes a letter to the housekeeper of Downton Abbey, attaches a résumé and a reference letter and posts it the next day. She is not even excited about this decision because she knows that she has to get away from this house sooner rather than later.

She is now 32 and has been in service since the age of sixteen. Staying on her parent's farm, marrying a simple farmer had never been something she could envision for her life. She hates the dirt, the untidiness, the chaos, the smell. Everything. She loves the landscape though, the green hills and the lush meadows and she misses them terribly - always. It's her home, her origin after all. But everything is better than hiding under the sheets at night, trying not to breathe, not to make a sound when he comes home from the pub. And she cannot deal with the bruises on her mother's face in the morning or the pale almost translucent skin of her younger sister who is so skinny and so fragile.

Elsie has to be strong for her sister and her mother. She is the oldest daughter and takes over responsibilities early in her life. At six she starts to help in the stables at three in the morning. When she turns eight, her father starts his nightly visits to the pub. Once, twice a week at first. There is nothing to worry about it. All the men in the village meet at the pub. But then his visits become more frequent and he is drunk when he comes home. The first time he hits her mother, Elsie was unable to sleep and on her way to the kitchen for a glass of milk. She hides in the shadows behind the door when she hears the strange noises, sees how her mother is stumbling through the kitchen, covering her face with her hands. She is terrified but cannot look away.

When she leaves home she feels guilty at first. They need her help, her comfort, her strength. But then her mother urges her to leave the house to get away from their miserable life. Aileen Hughes has fought for her daughters, taught them how to read and write, gave them the education she could afford. She wanted her daughters to get away from the farm and when Elsie told her she would go into service the tears her mother shed seemed inexhaustible. They are tears of joy, not of regret but Elsie knows that they also reflect her mother's fear.

The nightly incident makes her take a decision: She has to protect her mother and her sister. Her father will not break her and if he tries, she will fight back.

ooooo

She is employed as a housemaid at first. A young girl with long brown curly hair, not very tall for her age but strong and with an iron will to work hard. She never talks a lot, only works. Day after day, night after night. The other housemaids go out to the nearby town on their half days off. Elsie stays at the house, reads a book, walks through the gardens, enjoys the nature that surrounds her. She cannot be in the company of the other girls, laugh with them, be carefree. Not yet. What she needs is to be free, not attached to anyone or anything. She needs to be on her own. The other girls do not understand her and she knows that they gossip behind her back, also envy her because it is the strange Scottish girl that gets the praise from the old housekeeper.

She does not care about any of this. After two years in the same household they offer her the position as head housemaid and Elsie accepts it because it is her duty and because she wants to be successful in her life, get as far away from the old farm girl as possible. She wants to make her mother proud, show her that it was the right decision to leave the farm.

At first the young and the more experienced housemaids do not listen to her, do not take her seriously. She never shouts at them, is never stern or demanding. When she gives her orders her voice is strong but calm, something the others are not used to. Some of them mistake it as an offer for friendship but that is not what Elsie intended it to be. Helpful, loyal, friendly and effective is what she is. Not a friend. It's a relationship that is too close for her. Slowly the others get used to her approach and she opens up a bit, talks more, laughs a bit, joins them sometimes on their visits to the village. However, most of the time she chooses to be alone.

ooooo

She moves on from one estate to the next, like they all do, always searching for a higher position. Her third employment brings her to Northumberland when she is only 26. Still head housemaid she has gotten so used to the job that her daily routine feels like breathing to her. She does not even think about what she is doing anymore and it is a good feeling. It comforts her and confirms the decision she made ten years ago. She has changed her life successfully. Is not a farm girl any more. And then Joe enters her life, a young farmer who lives near the estate and whom she first meets at a village fair. A handsome man, blonde hair, broad shoulders. He is nice and he does not want to talk all the time. They arrange meetings in the local teashop every other month. Most of the time they just smile at each other, sometimes he tells her of his farm and the life there. It all sounds so familiar to her, too familiar at times. Although Joe is different compared to all the men she has so far met, she cannot allow herself to be attached to him or even love him.

For two years they walk out occasionally until the Baron employs a new housekeeper. A strict woman with high principles. Elsie likes her from the very beginning because they share one thing: those who work hard and do not get distracted from their task in hand earn respect and are highly valued. Gradually Elsie's work gets more difficult. Things disappear, lines return dirty from the laundry, housemaids ignore her orders, half days are rescheduled without her knowledge. To cover up all these mistakes, she works even harder, wants to show everyone that she is capable of the responsibility that she has taken over. The housekeeper thinks otherwise. A Scot, in such a high position in the household, is something she will never tolerate. Elsie discovers this when she overhears two of the younger maids talking in one of the corridors.  
"How could he employ such a savage?" They imitate the housekeeper. "They cannot read, write, are uneducated and lazy."

It will take her two years to get away from all of this and they will be the most trying two years of her life. All her strength and willpower is needed.

ooooo

Her suitcase is packed and she wears her new coat and matching hat. The day the housekeeper of Downton Abbey, Mrs Barnes, has replied to her letter, has changed something deep within her. There is new strength, new hope. On her way to the train station she holds her head up high, her back straight. It is the first impression that matters and it is better to be prepared right from the beginning of her journey south. The train leaves the station on time and she is too nervous to read a book or a newspaper so she tries to focus on some distant spots on the horizon though they move past her window too quickly. Green hills, meadows, cows, sheep, some horses pass by as if there is no human civilization outside of the large towns anymore. What she sees calms her down somehow, reminds her of happier days in Scotland. When Yorkshire approaches and the train stops at Downton, the landscape is still the same.

The house is huge, incomparable to all the places she has worked before. Still, the gardens that surround it are beautiful, the atmosphere is different to that in Northumberland and the young footman that opens the backdoor for her smiles when he firsts sees her. She will like it here, Elsie thinks, if they give her the job.

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**TBC  
reviews always welcome and I love every single one of them!**


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N It's been a very busy week and although I had started writing this chapter before I published ch. 2 I didn't find the time to finish it._

_Again: thank you so so much for your reviews and alerts! They make me very happy! _

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They sit in his pantry, the old housekeeper and the suprisingly young butler facing her. She is not nervous at all but apparently he is. It shows in his eyes that continuously wander around the room and cannot fix her gaze. And then there are his hands, big like her father's, but the skin is so much softer, the fingernails are clean and they do not look as though they could ever harm anyone. He has folded them in his lap but his fingers are moving restlessly.

"What has brought the decision about to apply for this particular job, Miss Hughes, when you live so far away from Yorkshire?" The housekeeper asks and she tells her story, not everything though. She leaves out the bit about her superior in Northumberland and also that she has a suitor, if that is what Joe has become over the years. Nothing should destroy her chances to secure this employment. It is her only chance. She even tries to hide her accent as best as she can.

Heads nod to encourage and approve of her, more questions are asked. Elsie answers them all, calmly and short, exaggerating nothing. She knows that she is a good head housemaid, can work hard and even harder when they expect it from her. Then the housekeeper leaves the room all of a sudden whereas the butler stays with her, staring at the wall behind her.

"Mr. Carson, is it?" She asks after a moment of silence, taking a high risk to address a possible superior first without being asked to speak her mind. The rules downstairs are almost the same as between the noble dukes and earls. When you have a lower status such as a housemaid you accept to be subordinate to butler and housekeeper. But to her surprise, she is not afraid of him, trusts him although she does not even know him.

"Yes, Miss Hughes."

"May I ask how long you have been employed here?" She wants to know how familiar he is with the house, its inhabitants, the servants.

For the first time he finds her eyes, studies her. She holds his gaze, does not blink, waits for an answer. "Twelve years."

His voice is deep and calming. She has not noticed this before when the housekeeper was still with them. He is different to all the other men she has met so far. "That is a long time." She never stayed longer than a few years in one place. Moving on, finding a better position was too important for her. And of course getting as far away from her father as possible although it meant to give up her beloved Scotland forever.

"Indeed it is." Silence. They sit opposite each other still and the butler looks away from her again then stands up and excuses himself. She remains behind in his pantry waiting for the heads of the household to return. She has a look around. There are only a few pictures on the walls, some books on the shelves. Elsie rises from her chair, risks a look at them. Her fingers run along the back of the books: heavy account books, a wine ledger, novels, some Dickens. He is indeed different. So calm, not at all giving her the feeling that he will be her superior. He does not oppress her, seems to take her seriously. Yes, she will like it here.

ooooo

She sits in front of him, a young woman of about 30, brown hair, blue eyes, slim figure. Her face does not tell him how she feels but he is sure that Elsie Hughes is as self-confident and determined as she looks. None of the questions they ask her is left unanswered. Her accent is audible but not as strong as he has hoped it would be. She tries to conceal it obviously and he wonders why she does so. He is fond of the Scottish lilt since his days on the stage and it reminds him of the beautiful landscape, the green hills, the rough, stony shores of the Lochs and the warm rain. Several times he looks at her, wants to study her face more closely but whenever he tries, he cannot concentrate anymore. Those eyes, her mouth, everything distracts him.

The other women were completely different. Shy, smiled a lot, tried to cover their nervousness. Most of them could not answer all their questions to their satisfaction. Elsie Hughes can. When Mrs. Barnes leaves the room and he is left alone with the young woman, Charles has a hard time controlling his nervousness and then she starts to talk to him. He is only capable of short answers but for the first time he has a closer look at her, can look into her eyes. It is the most fatal mistake he has ever made. Without a proper excuse he leaves his pantry, walks along the deserted corridor and opens the door to the backyard. Fresh air is what he needs now, something to distract him.

She is perfect. For him she is the ideal head housemaid. She is experienced at her job and there is a determination in her appearance he cannot fully grasp. She most definitely has a strong will and will never disappoint him or Mrs. Barnes. Elsie Hughes does not doubt her abilities. She is sure of them. _And she is beautiful, _he thinks. Too beautiful maybe.

When he returns to his room a few minutes later, Mrs. Barnes is already waiting for him, impatiently. Both women stand in the middle of the pantry, looking at him expectantly. He has to make the final decision now. And the butler of Downton Abbey knows what to do but Charles Carson is not at all sure whether the choice he makes now is a wise one.

"Miss Hughes we would be glad if you could start work next week." That is what he says to her.

ooooo

"Welcome to Downton Abbey!" A young housemaid, a few years younger than her, opens the backdoor the next time she arrives. This time she will stay here and never return to Northumberland, to a place that has not been her home. She is finally free, almost.

Elsie carries her small bag upstairs to her new room, which she shares with another housemaid, Beth. Few words are exchanged and then she is left alone, unpacks her bag, makes her side of the room her new home. A framed picture, three books, a wooden box with a brooch in it are placed on the little bedside table. Her Sunday best finds a place in the cupboard, the black dress, apron and cap she unfolds and has it ready to wear. She brushes off the dust from her travel coat, hangs it behind the door and changes into her new uniform.

But before she can start her work, Elsie sits down on the bed, opens her purse and pulls out the letter. The handwriting is so familiar. She has seen it many times over the last few years but now is the first time she dreads to read it. He has not asked her in person when she told him she would go to Yorkshire, has not found the courage to say the words loud. Instead he has written them down which makes it hard to ignore them and to forget them. The words are imprinted in her memory now forever. "Will you do me the honour and marry me, Elsie Hughes?" is his sentence. She reads it over and over again but she cannot make a decision. Not yet. The letter is tucked away into her purse again.

ooooo

There is an unannounced delivery to be taken care of and although traditionally Mrs. Barnes shows the new housemaids around the house, she hands this task over to him. Of all things. She is too busy, she says. You do it. And so he waits, dutifully, at the end of the staircase that leads down to the kitchen, for her to arrive.

Quick, light steps announce her. She is fast, and almost runs into him, stops on the last step, trying to find her balance again. They are almost at eye level now and for a brief moment he forgets to breathe.

He clears his throat, takes a few steps backwards, creates some distance between them. "Elsie, I will show you the house now."

"Of course Mr. Carson." Her face does not show the surprise or any sign of embarrassment. She just smiles. "If I may ask: isn't this the housekeeper's task?"

Her accent is thicker now, much more pronounced than a week ago. This is a serious problem, so he quickly answers her question and then motions her to follow him. He needs to have this done as fast as possible, needs to concentrate on his work, his rules, his responsibilities now. Not on that wonderful blue eyes. There are rules. And he takes them seriously.

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**TBC**

**and now the story will slowly unfold...**


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N Sorry for the delay! RL was hard last week and I had absolutely no inspiration at all. And before you get a chapter that I don't like, I rather wait until the plot bunny knocks on my door again._

_We are so close to Series 03 now...  
Thanks for all the reviews so far!  
_

_The characters are not mine (except Mrs. Barnes). And Downton Abbey does not belong to me.  
_

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Elsie Hughes works hard, concentrated, without making any fuss. The other housemaids accept her almost the day after her arrival. There are no hard words and none of the other young women envy her or her position. Mrs. Barnes talks about her in their evening meetings, tells him about the new girl. How she is so different compared to the last head housemaid, fair, calm, yet strict and demanding when it is needed. Somehow it makes him proud to hear that, confirms his initial impression he had about her. On the other hand he is ashamed of the pride he feels, because it clouds his judgement of her and most of all violates the rules he has set for himself – not entirely but severely enough.

Still he cannot help himself and often observes her unnoticed when he is on his rounds along the vast corridors and floors of the house. Sometimes he stops at the end of a hallway, studying her back when she dusts some tables or the old oil paintings. At other times he follows her into the rooms she has to prepare for guests, just to make sure everything is in order. But in fact there is no need for him to control her work. It is only an excuse for him to see her more often when all he wants is to avoid her as much as possible.

But then, every morning she is the first of the housemaids he notices in the servants hall, every night she is the last person he sees – except of course for Mrs. Barnes. For him, she has a remarkable presence as soon as she enters the room. He does not know what it is: the way she moves, smiles, talks to the other maids, her eyes, her positiveness? It's a mystery to him.

In the evenings he has to send her up to bed more than once, tell her that her work for the day is done and that she has to take some rest. She only smiles at him during these one-sided conversations, expresses her agreement with a simple nod and turns on her heel to go upstairs. He tries not to look at her when she does so, closes his eyes or leaves for his pantry immediately. The proximity is too much and he is inevitably aware of his superior position in these moments. And of his weaknesses.

She likes her new position. The house is huge, has numerous staircases, labyrinthine corridors, so many different rooms that she gets lost in the first few days of her employment. Maybe that is why he follows her around so often. Keeps an eye on her when she prepares the rooms for new guests? She cannot help but smile in his presence although she does not want to. After all, he is her superior, the butler, the most senior position in the household. And she knows nothing about him just has this feeling that she can trust him, entirely.

Everyone is nice to her. That is something she is not used to, not from her previous employments. There had always been some maids that envied her; always been young footmen that turned around whistling at her when she walked past them. Downton Abbey is not such a place. She is treated with respect from the start. This also includes the housekeeper. And Elsie tries to learn fast to keep that respect, memorize her daily tasks, the names of the housemaids and the different ways and shortcuts around the house. The place is exactly how she had imagined it to be. It is perfect and she does everything she can to keep it that way.

She even works longer than is required of her. Not because she thinks that it will influence what the other servants think of her – she is not interested in that – but because the work makes her happy. For the first time in years she is content with what she is doing. There is no urge anymore to run away, find something better, a more respected position. Especially not when he is the one that reminds her, late at night, to go to bed, take some rest. He is indeed different than all the men she's encountered before.

Two months pass. It is late summer now and one morning she wakes up, all of a sudden remembering the different smells that accompanied her throughout her childhood. The window in their small room was open overnight and from outside she perceives the scent of cut wheat. The harvest has always been her favourite time of the year and the one she dreaded most. Hard work, long hours, from the dark hours of the morning to the gloomy hours of nightfall, defined her days back then. Yet the celebrations after a successful harvest are one of her favourite memories.

Elsie pushes the covers back, gets out of the bed and walk across the room towards the window. She has to stand on tiptoes to look out. The meadows stretch endlessly to either side of the estate until they are swallowed by the horizon. No hills obstruct her view. She can see the small people in the distance working on the fields, hears their shouts, the melodies they sing. Inevitably another thought crosses her mind: Joe. She has not heard from him, has not given him an answer yet.

She steps away from the window. It is so cold suddenly. A shiver runs down her spine and she tries to keep warm by wrapping her arms around her body. Joe. Is he still a suitor?

A second annual event has to be planned. After the harvest, the Earl of Grantham traditionally invites all his tenant farmers for a huge harvest fest. He thinks about this when he opens the window in his small room upstairs in the servant's quarters. There is this familiar smell, the faint sound of farmers singing their songs while they work. He likes this time of the year but at the same time hates the preparations for the festivities. Especially this year when it is the first time he is in charge. He can no longer rely on others. It will be him who has to make plans with Mrs. Barnes later. He will have to instruct the footmen what to do. They have three weeks to prepare everything, to make this day perfect.

He closes the window immediately. Shuts out what he had enjoyed mere minutes before. A few deep breaths are needed to calm him down. He is capable of this, knows what to do. And he has enough people in this household he can trust. Still, his knees start to shake slightly and he has to sit down for a moment.

Downstairs there is nothing left of the insecurity he has felt in the early morning hours. His back is straight, his voice deep and demanding when he orders the hall boys around to fetch some more fresh tea for breakfast. They all stand up when he enters the servant's hall, wish him good morning. Before he sits down he catches a glimpse of Elsie Hughes, a smile on her lips as always. He does not answer it today, is afraid to get lost in it, forget about his work for a moment. Today he needs to be the stern butler, represent the house perfectly. So he only nods towards Mrs. Barnes, takes his seat and starts handing out the porridge the cook has prepared.

All during breakfast his eyes are fixed either on his food in front of him, or on the housekeeper, when they quickly talk about the various tasks of the day. It takes all his self-control to not look in her direction and even more of it, when breakfast is over and she walks past him to take care of the bedrooms upstairs, accidentally brushing his right shoulder with her hand. He clenches his teeth, closes his eyes before he can continue with the conversation he is presently having with Mrs. Barnes.

"We'll have to make sure the tents will be cleaned and tested before the event, Mr. Carson."

"I agree with you." He has to force himself to look at her. "I shall hand this task over to the more experienced boys this afternoon."

"Very well." Mrs. Barnes gets up, pats his shoulder. "You should get some distraction, Mr. Carson."

He knows what she is implying but he does not have a solution for this problem.

A breathless hall boy stands before her, waving a cream coloured envelope. "For you Miss Hughes", he pants after having climbed all the stairs to the second floor bachelor's corridor. She never gets any letters, not even from her sister who is still cross with her for moving away even further from her home. So it must be something important and one quick glance onto the front of the small envelope confirms her suspicions. Joe. She put it in the pocket of her apron, excuses herself and leaves the two maids alone. This is important. She has to read it now.

Elsie descends the stairs in a hurry, walks across the corridors, tries to find a place where she can read the letter. She does not want to go upstairs to her room. No negative feelings should invade her sanctuary, especially no regrets. Aimlessly she stumbles across the large hall, reaches the staircase that leads to the kitchen. She almost runs along the hallways towards the backdoor. Outside she finds a bench, sits down and tries to catch her breath before she takes out the letter again.

* * *

**TBC**

**a little cliffhanger...  
**


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N wow. It's again been a week! Sorry!_

_I got lost on the way to chapter 05 but thanks to you - readers - I found my way back. Thx to kouw and batwings79 for beta-ing and their input. It made me realize a few things! merci._

_The characters are not mine. Fellowes/ITV/Carnival/Masterpiece (whoever!) own them. Sadly enough._

* * *

Her hands tremble too much to open the envelope without ripping it. She does not want to feel this anticipation. It is only a letter, containing maybe an answer, maybe a question, in any case something she does not want to think about. With the index finger of her right hand she breaks the seal, opens the envelope as carefully as possible. The first words appear _My dear Elsie, love. _The letter falls into her lap and she does not want to look at it a second time, refuses to read more of it.

This is not her anymore. The Elsie Hughes Joe refers to, has ceased to exist. What lies in her lap is her past, a time she had tried to forget since the first day at Downton Abbey. All those years she had spent in the constant search for something better, for a place where she would finally feel at home. Elsie looks at the building in front of her, the lower parts hidden from view by the large old oak trees in the backyard. This is her home now and the place she had been looking for. And no one will take it away from her ever again.

She takes a deep breath and picks up the letter again, ignores the word _love _which Joe uses too often in the next sentences that fill almost two pages. He speaks of the farm, what has happened since she left Northumberland, how much he misses her and in the last paragraph there is the question she has feared. _Have you thought about my offer? Will you marry me, Elsie? I love you and I want you to become my wife. _Wife, marriage, love. What does it mean to her? Does it mean anything to anyone? For her mother, love turned into torture, fear and self-loathing. For one employer's wife, love meant to live with the knowledge that your husband also loves other women. Love is a feeling she has never experienced as something positive. Elsie folds the letter, puts it back inside the envelope, closes it and stares at it for a moment until her eyes hurt and she cannot read the handwriting on it anymore. Her vision is blurred and her cheeks are suddenly wet. She has forgotten the last time in her life she cried and she wants it to stop but she is not strong enough. Not this time.

ooooo

Some fresh air is what he needs now. The house is too full, too busy, too constricting. "_Get some distraction."_ The words echo in his head, over and over again. He cannot stop thinking about her and the accidental touch, this short moment of closeness. She is inside his head and whenever he closes his eyes the only thing he sees is her face. A beautiful smile, large blue eyes, reddened cheeks. He has to stay away from these thoughts, ban them, ignore them like he did so many times before during the years on the stage when there were other women he could not take his eyes off. He had come to Downton Abbey to get away from all of this. Years of hard work, of not breaking a single rule, of becoming the perfect servant start to crumble now. He will not allow this to happen.

With great strides he crosses the backyard, not even looking where he is heading to. Through the small gate in the brick wall he enters the vegetable garden with its apple and cherry trees and the small bench he always sat on when he was still a footman. There were times when he needed to get away from the house even then. More often than now in fact. It is one of the few places on the estate where no one ever disturbs him. A few more steps and a turn around the corner of the old sandstone wall and he will be there. For the first time since he has left the house he looks up but stops walking immediately when he sees her sitting on his bench.

The head she always holds up so high and proud is bent down to look into her lap. Her shoulders are slouched. Nothing resembles the strong head housemaid Elsie Hughes. Her whole appearance shocks him. Here sits a woman who is vulnerable, hurt, alone, he thinks and wishes he had never stormed out of the house in such a hurry without thinking where to go. Charles takes a step backwards, hides behind the wall, yet he can not avert his eyes. Her hand is lifted to her cheeks, wipes away tears. He is not supposed to be here and witness this moment of weakness. As much as he had needed this walk and some fresh air, nothing can erase this scene from his memory now.

He wants to step out from behind his hiding place, walk down the rest of the path towards the bench, ask her what is wrong, comfort her. Charles Carson would do that. Mr. Carson cannot carry out this simple act of kindness. So he observes her from the distance until she suddenly stands up with that determined look on her face he has seen so many times already. And then he realizes why he is so attracted to her. The head housemaid Elsie Hughes is a façade, a role, something she has perfected over the years. There is a different Elsie underneath it all, just like he hides his real self under a stern exterior.

ooooo

The weeks pass by too fast and she has hardly time for herself. His letter she puts in an empty box inside her cupboard and she tries to forget the words it contains. She has made her decision. On the day of the annual harvest fest it is hidden in the pocket of her apron, written on plain white paper. Only one page filled with her neat and tidy handwriting, telling him that she cannot take this step. She will not become his wife.

Elsie has never seen the house so busy as in the hours before the harvest festivities. The younger servants are running around, trying to immediately carry out all the orders they are given. Mrs. Barnes sends them downstairs, upstairs, out of the house, to fetch additional cutlery, dishes, decorations. Musicians arrive, extra food is brought into the kitchen, the housemaids are ordered to prepare the tents in the garden. Elsie follows them outside, supervises the set up of tables, chairs and they perfect the decorations. She has never been involved in the preparation of a festivity like this before. For her it is fun, it makes her happy, requires all her attention and her skills as head housemaid. This is what she had been looking for all these years. A place where she is needed and her work is rewarded. And during all the fuss she forgets about the letter until the sun begins to set and the guest keep arriving.

There are farmers everywhere, wearing their Sunday best, however even the finest clothes cannot hide their profession. Tanned faces, cheerful smiles and red, vital cheeks contrast with the porcelain complexions of the attending ladies, earls and lords. Callused hands shake His Lordships and Ladyships hands innumerable times that evening. Her past becomes so real again one more time while she obediently waits on the noble guest and at the same time steals too many glances at the singing and dancing farmers in the big tent. They seem so happy, free, not concerned about politics, money, or reaching a higher position in society. Things Lord Grantham sets such a great value upon. She has turned down the offer to become a farmer's wife. The letter is still in her pocket, she hasn't found the time to give it to one of the hall boys that take care of the mail. But the more time she spends looking at the people she has left behind, the more she believes she has made the right decision. She is no longer the farm girl she once was. There are other people now that are more important. Mrs. Barnes, Beth, the other housemaids, and especially Mr. Carson, although she does not know what his role in her life will be. However she feels that he is important.

When she returns to the kitchen to fetch some more lemonade, she gives the letter to Jack, kindly asks him to run down to the village. Urges him to make sure the letter will leave Downton with the morning train.

"Of course Miss Hughes. I will hurry!"

"Thank you, it's very important to me."

ooooo

They haven't talked much since the day he has seen her in the vegetable garden. Elsie is always busy, assisting Mrs. Barnes more than the usual head housemaid. She would make a good housekeeper he thinks, more than once. Although it is too early to think about a replacement. But when the time comes, he will make sure she is offered the position. Even if this means he has to spend a lot of time with her and can no longer avoid her. He suppresses these kinds of thoughts, focuses on something else, on the harvest fest instead.

During the past weeks he slowly gets used to the many different emotions she manages to arouse within him. And he learns to deal with them. Bit by bit. He has found a way to stand to the rules now. Whenever they met in the corridor and she smiles at him, he counts to ten, smiles and moves on. At breakfast he never looks at her and when he finds her still awake and downstairs in the kitchen when everyone else has gone to bed, he keeps his orders very short and does not stay with her until she really makes her way upstairs to her bed. But at night, she is in his dreams. It's the only time he allows himself to break the rules. Although he knows it is not right, not proper. There is no other way.

At the harvest fest he is the one that takes over most of the responsibility. He shares some of it with Mrs. Barnes. Still, he is outside in the garden all day, observes, gives his orders, takes care that everything runs smoothly, makes sure the guests are treated they way they deserve to be treated. All of them, including the farmers. His footmen are doing a fine job and he tries to hide his relief. He has managed to train them well, gained their respect. Being butler does not feel strange anymore. When Mrs. Barnes joins him and they both take a look at what they have achieved he is proud. For the first time in years.

"Well done Mr. Carson." She pats his shoulder as is her habit with him.

"Thank you."

"I think it's time to get the wine ready."

He looks at her, nods. "I will take care of that."

ooooo

Downstairs he is in a different world compared to the festivities in the garden. It is cool and dark in the wine cellar and he only takes a hand lamp down with him. For a while he enjoys the quietness and the darkness. He selects the bottles, puts them in a wicker basket and takes them upstairs to be decanted later. What he did not except was to find her standing in front of the cellar door, looking after Jack who runs off through the backdoor.

"Miss Hughes?"

She turns around, startled, spills a bit of lemonade on the floor. The pitcher was too full.

"Oh I am sorry Mr. Carson. I did not know you where downstairs."

There is this wonderful smile again and he tries to count to ten.

"I just handed Jack a letter that needs to be in the mail tomorrow."

She does not make a move, holds the pitcher in both hands. He puts down the basket.

"Is it something important?"

He remembers the moment when he found her on that bench, crying.

"Yes. I had let go of someone. Something. Made a decision."

She looks down onto the floor and he feels the urge to take her into his arms, to comfort her. But all he does is say one more thing. "You've made the right decision." Although he does not know what it is.

He is standing in front of her and all she can do is smile. When he talks to her it is the best comfort she has ever experienced. They only exchange a few words, still she tells him about the letter, gives him more information than she wanted to. There is this familiar feeling of trust she always experiences in his presence. She cannot lie to him.

ooooo

"You've made the right decision." She hears him say and the next thing she sees herself doing is taking a few steps in his direction, closing the gap between them and she places a kiss on his cheek.

* * *

**TBC**

**thanks for all the reviews so far. If you like, you can leave me another one.**


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N somehow I can write stuff when I am feeling really really sad and confused. nevermind.  
Thanks to my betas you now get a new (long) chapter. _

* * *

It is only a fleeting kiss on the cheek but he feels responsible for it. No suitors and no relationships between staff members, so are the rules. He makes sure they all respect them and never questions them. He cannot be the one who breaks them. Not when he has finally accepted his new position and is happy for what feels like the first time in his life. But somehow all he wants to do is run away after she turns around and leaves him standing in the corridor with the basket full of wine bottles in his hand. He suddenly wants to be far away from everything, the house, the responsibility, her. There is this feeling of guilt again that once dominated his life to such an extent that he was unable to handle it anymore. Guilt had brought him back from the years on the stage to the big houses, the dark rooms below stairs, the starched livery. And he cannot allow guilt to ruin his life.

No one will ever find out what had happened that afternoon. Elsie Hughes does not deserve to lose her job because of him. She is the best thing that has ever happened to him, the best head housemaid he has ever worked with, and the most beautiful. In the weeks and months that follow the garden party, autumn, winter, Christmas, he makes sure to not interfere with her work anymore, and treats her like any other housemaid. He has to keep the distance and become the professional butler again, the one that never shows his true feelings. Soon her smiles become rare in his presence and it hurts him beyond all description to see her withdraw from him. He wants to tell her the truth and explain his behaviour but there is no way to do this without hurting her even more. Besides, what is the truth? They had never been more than co-workers, he tells himself. He is her superior after all. But it never felt like it until now. There were moments when he wanted to call her more than a colleague, a friend perhaps, or something beyond that.

Sometimes he allows himself to look at her during breakfast again. It is like an old habit Charles cannot let go of. He only ever sees her profile because she never turns her head in his direction to meet his gaze. It is better this way although he is not convinced at all by his reasoning. And he has to live with the fact that the only moments he can see her eyes and enjoy her wonderful accent is at night, in his dreams, which he cannot control or stop.

ooooo

She had kissed him. On the cheek. A man. Her superior, the proud and stern butler of Downton Abbey. She cannot recall how it had happened. Suddenly she feels his warm cheek underneath her lips, feels how he holds his breath for a few seconds before she pulls away and runs away upstairs to the garden party again, spilling more lemonade onto the stone steps, her apron, her shoes, in her hurry.

There are rules in this house, and there is also the promise she had made to herself to never be dependent on anyone anymore. Moments before, she had made her decision to live an independent life, turned down a proposal. Her head is spinning and she cannot concentrate on her work for the rest of the day and the evening. Mrs. Barnes sends her to bed early which only makes things worse. All she can think about is how she will probably lose her job now because of some silly mistake. And when she closes her eyes there is his face again and his voice, _you've made the right decision._Fear and happiness fight a battle within her that night and the ones that follow it.

ooooo

A week passes and nothing happens. Neither Mr. Carson nor Mrs. Barnes talk to her about her loss of propriety. They never mention it. Instead he ignores her, does not talk to her anymore. Only when it is absolutely necessary they exchange a few words. It is a relationship between a butler and a head housemaid, professional and cold. Her smiles become fewer and their encounters happen less and less. She talks more to Mrs. Barnes during the months that pass and hardly ever to him.

Maybe this is what had to happen. They were too close and she had acted too bold in his presence more than once. If she wants to stay at Downton Abbey she has to ignore this feeling inside her, that little voice in her head that tells her to apologize to him and to give, whatever it had been between them, a second try.

A week before Christmas she is summoned into Mrs. Barnes' sitting room. It is the middle of a normal working day. She hurries downstairs from the red bedroom she is preparing for the guests the family expects for the Christmas festivities. Usually Mrs. Barnes never asks for her during the day. The housekeeper knows that she can trust Elsie Hughes and give her more responsibilities than a normal head housemaid would get.

She knocks on the door, waits until she is allowed to enter the room and is surprised to see both, butler and housekeeper, waiting for her. The kiss, she thinks. Mrs. Barnes knows about it. Elsie tries to stay calm, takes a few deep breaths and straightens her back. She cannot stand in front of her superiors and let them know how she feels right now. Small, guilty, silly and so afraid of her future.

Mrs. Barnes makes her sit down in front of the desk. Mr. Carson is standing behind it next to the housekeeper who also sits, her hands folded and resting on the table top. There is a smile on her face that looks encouraging and Elsie is confused for a moment.  
"Elsie, we would like to offer you a promotion."  
She looks at Mr. Carson, tries to read his face. His mouth is a thin line, his eyes are fixed on some invisible spot at the wall behind Elsie.  
"A promotion?" she asks and thinks she misunderstood Mrs. Barnes.  
"Indeed. Elsie, I will retire at the end of January and we would like to offer you the position as housekeeper."  
With mouth agape she stares at them both. Mr. Carson still does not show any emotion whereas Mrs. Barnes is smiling and obviously waiting for an answer. Housekeeper is the highest position a woman can achieve. It means a lot of responsibility to be the head of the house, next to the butler, alongside him. Her gaze is fixed on him now. She tries to read in his eyes what he thinks about this decision. Can they work together? Is it possible to forget her small emotional moment?  
"Elsie?" She hears someone speak her name. "Miss Hughes?"  
His voice is loud and clear and brings her out of her reverie.  
"Thank you Mrs. Barnes, Mr. Carson. I appreciate your offer very much." There is still no sign of what he thinks in his face. "I would like to think about it and give you an answer in the morning."

The housekeeper nods, so does Mr. Carson.  
"Very well, Elsie. But just so that you now, you have proven to be the ideal person for this position", is the last thing she hears Mrs. Barnes says before she is dismissed.

ooooo

She cannot sleep at all, tosses and turns underneath the covers. Beth wakes up several times during the night and complains about it. Elsie cannot help it. Sleep does not come for her. The third time Beth wakes up, Elsie waits until the other woman falls asleep again before she gets up, takes her robe from the hook by the door and leaves her room. She does not know where to go. There is no place in the house she would call _her place. _So she descends the stairs until she finds herself in the servant's hall. It is dark down here, empty and unusually quiet. But here she has time to think.

Housekeeper. Of course she has dreamt about it a few times when she was still in Northumberland. Never has this thought crossed her mind since she has arrived here. She was content to be head housemaid. Everything about this position is perfect. Mrs. Barnes trusts her, she works independently, is not pushed around by other housemaids, she is a respected member of staff. Elsie cannot stand still. While she thinks, tries to come to a decision, she walks around the servant's hall, over and over again. For a moment she stops, in front of Mr. Carson's chair. Her hand reaches out to touch the exquisitely carved backrest. Her fingers trace the pattern engraved in the wood. She would sit next to him at every meal. They would probably meet every evening to discuss their day, work closer together than ever before, talk a lot, make decisions that affect the house.

Elsie withdraws her hand, takes a step backwards and jumps when her back hits something warm and solid that should not be there behind her.

ooooo

It is impossible for him to fall asleep. The room is cold, there are ice flowers on the window and he can see his breath. But that is not what keeps him awake. Her serious and thoughtful face does not leave his head. The way she had looked at him several times this afternoon is etched in his mind. She had hesitated to take over the offered position. Why if not because of him? Elsie Hughes had always appeared so self-assured. She is perfect for this position and he does not want her to turn the offer down. If it is him who makes it impossible for her to move on, then he has to find a way to make things work between them. Suppress his feelings that for her that seem to grow stronger with every day she is at Downton.

Another hour passes before he decides to get up and downstairs for a cup of tea. It will help him sleep. The staircase is dark. He does not take a lamp with him, finds his way down step by step blindly after all these years. As soon as he enters the dark corridor that leads to the kitchen he stops walking. There is a noise coming from the servant's hall. Familiar footsteps echo through the night. Carefully he takes one step after another, tries not to make a sound. He does not want to disturb or startle her. When he reaches the door to the servant's hall she has stopped walking, stands in front of his chair, touches the wood. Her head is tilted to the right and she looks as if she is thinking about something, about them, being housekeeper. He holds his breath and does not notice that she moves backwards until it is too late.

His hands are on her shoulders the moment she jumps in fright, trying to calm her.

"I am sorry." She has to hear his voice.

Elsie slowly exhales and turns around to face him.

"I did not hear you coming, Mr. Carson." They are so close, she almost touches him and he can feel her breath on his face.

"I did not think anyone else was still awake."

A small smile becomes visible on her face. He has not seen this for a long time.

"We both could not sleep?"

He cannot answer this with words, only nods his head. His hands are still on her shoulders and he does not want to let her go. She does not back away.

The silence between them that follows feels like hours. Especially because he cannot stop looking at her, although it is hard to see her eyes in the darkness. He feels how she moves closer, how his hands move from her shoulders to her arms, to her waist. And then it happens. This time her lips find his mouth, not his cheek and he cannot get away from it although his mind tells him to. He deepens the kiss, does not want to let her go and she follows his lead.

Breathless they break the kiss and she rests her head on his chest.

"I will take the position, Mr. Carson."

He does not know what to answer, what to do. Everything that just had happened feels so wrong and yet so right.

* * *

**TBC**

**(one more chapter and then I will return to my normal style of writing again *lol*)  
**


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N Thank you for ALL YOUR WONDERFUL REVIEWS! It was so amazing. woah!_

_Here's the last chapter. And: **Why do I always construct such complicated inner monologues? AHH, why can't I write something simple?!** ;)  
_

_still not my characters. I just tried to give them a little back story.  
_

* * *

He does not back off, in fact he deepens the kiss and Elsie instinctively knows that she has made the right decision. He did not reveal her inappropriate behaviour months ago to Mrs. Barnes or anyone else. He has kept it a secret, although she had broken the rules. His rules. Charles Carson, the rigid and dutiful butler of Downton Abbey gave her a new home and a chance to be herself, to let go of the ambitious Elsie Hughes. He is the reason why she feels safe and comfortable at this large estate. An experience she never had before in all those years she has worked in service. From the first encounter she knows that she can trust him and that he will never betray her. There is no discomfort when she works alongside him, when they talk or discuss things. No fear of being mistreated or not valued. Charles Carson makes Downton Abbey worth living and staying.

She knows this now after their second kiss. His hands still rest on her hips and the small of her back, hold her close and she rests her cheek on his chest, feels his heartbeat. He is different from Joe. Joe who showed his feelings openly, was never afraid of anything, would do everything for her. Even promise her the moon and the stars on the night sky. Every other woman would have envied her. Still, what she wants is something different: a home, a place where she knows she will grow old, the feeling of security and affection. Life on a farm is hard and consumptive. Year after year, harvest after harvest. There is hardly time for anything else than hard work. Only the mundane feelings and necessary emotions would have survived between her and Joe. It is and will be different with Charles Carson. It will be perfect although she does not know what will happen next. For now she feels at ease, relaxed, safe.

ooooo

He cannot let go of her. One hand wanders down her back, the other draws her closer into an embrace. His head and his heart fight a battle. For a long time Charles had tried to ignore his feelings, tried to not fall for her completely. But Elsie Hughes is too perfect, too strong, too womanly. She is his counterpart in every way.

During the years on the road he has met many women. All of them immediately seemed to fall in love with his voice, his height, the way he walked. He remembers even more silly reasons and explanations. All of them worthless compared to Elsie Hughes. She is different. She is the only person that ever managed to see behind the façade he had created for himself over the years. All the perfection, the rules, the self-discipline do not matter for her. It was the kiss on the cheek she had given him months ago that made him realize this. Yet he was not able to react, hid himself behind his rules. Like he always did. It is the only thing he knows that protects him and enables him to stay focused.

Her head rests on his chest now. She feels comfortable in his presence. It is obvious, even to him. And although his hands cannot stop touching her he is afraid, surprised about his reaction, uncertain how to proceed. They cannot go back to being simply two colleagues that work in the same house for the same family. She will be housekeeper in less than five weeks. He will share the majority of his day with her. What about his rules?

"You will be housekeeper then", he hears himself say into the darkness. "We will work together."

"We already do." Her voice is muffled, her head still rests on his shirt and her arms encircle his waist.

His throat is too dry and his voice sounds too hoarse. "There are rules." Maybe she understands how he feels.

"I know." She lifts her head and looks up to him.

"And…", he starts but is cut off by her next words.

"I broke them…" A sad smile becomes visible on her lips.

And he cannot help himself but smile too. "No. We both broke them." It is true. He could have stopped her.

Before she answers she closes her eyes for a moment, thinks obviously. "You make the rules." It is like a proposal, a challenge.

She is right about this. It is as simple as that. "I know." He takes a deep breath before he continues. "Therefore I have to keep them upright…" The sentence is not finished, hangs in the air between them, waits for him to make a final decision.

"But?" she needs to know what he thinks. Her hands leave his back, fall to her side. She takes one step backwards. Regret starts to well up inside her and she holds her breath.

He does not want to let her go and the next words are the most difficult he has ever said. He ignores the voice inside his head, the one that tells him to forget about this night. "It feels wrong to do so." He feels how she relaxes and her hands find his hips again. Suddenly this is more important than everything else: the house, his work.

There is a difference between Mr. Carson and Charles Carson. In front of her she sees the man she trusts unconditionally, finally. There is no hesitance when she answers. "I trust you, completely."

"You will make a perfect housekeeper, Elsie." Another step forward, closer to her.

"We will work together." She repeats what he has said in the beginning.

"As a team."

"And your rules?" It is the final question and she feels that he has not answered it yet.

"I will think about them. We will find a way." Because to him, for the first time in many years, it is not a set of self-imposed regulations that control his decisions but his heart.

"Together?" She asks cautiously and her question is answered when his lips meet hers for a second kiss.

* * *

THE E N D

Hope you are not dissapointed. It took me a few days to figure out how to end this story. Not completely happy about it but it's the best I could think of ;)


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